


Intern Gilbert

by TheTopazKittyCat



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Before "Hatchets", M/M, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, fan episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3784126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTopazKittyCat/pseuds/TheTopazKittyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old intern comes back from the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intern Gilbert

Eggs. Eggs everywhere. Eggs for miles. Eggs will cover the entire universe. Eggs will rule. Welcome to Night Vale. (Cue music.)  
Listeners, this morning I went to print some last minute announcements that had come to me last night, and when I tried to print them, the printer began to glow neon blue, a vortex with lighting wrapping around it, shrieking "PLEASE INSERT INK!!" as printers commonly do. I found that we were out of ink cartridges, so I went to the emergency supply cabinet to see if I could find some ink. When I opened the door, a skeleton fell out, crashing into me and giving me quite a shock. I contacted a friend- who, as a hobby, studies and actively uses forensic anthropology- to see if she could figure out anything about the skeleton. After studying it, she said that the skeleton was male, Caucasian, and in their mid to late teens. I checked the files to see if there was any missing persons matching that description, and I found that there was an intern here about seven years ago named Gilbert who went missing and whose body was never recovered. We announced his death after three weeks, and had his funeral a few days afterwards, but since we had no body, did not hold a burial, but, now that we have found him, the burial is scheduled for next Sunday at noon.  
Now to our community calendar: on Monday, we will all for so inexplicable reason, we will all feel compelled to converge at city hall, joining our hands into a ring and chanting to an unknown power. The Night Vale high school would like to announce that they are having a concert on Tuesday, featuring popular hits like "All About That Base" and "The Blood Will Come Running Down Your Face Onto Your White Lace Shirt." The public library will be having a book sale from Tuesday evening to Tuesday evening of next week. It is mandatory for everyone to purchase at least one item from the sale. If not, you will be promptly arrested by the sheriffs secret police. On Wednesday, we will all sleep- sleep so long, on and on until it is 9 PM and we all rush to our workplaces, chastising ourselves for not setting the alarm. On Thursday, there is a raffle for a new type of dirt powered space engine. Friday is a terrible, terrible mistake- a cruel prank of the unforgiving universe. On Saturday, there's a community volley ball tournament. Don't miss out on the fun! Attendance will be mandatory, though you do not need to participate the game. The game will only last half an hour. On Sunday, we will all go about our daily lives, but with a new sense of wonder, a sort of epiphany like state, relishing our lives for the first time ever.  
As for news, the Sheriff's Secret Police as well as the City Council has once again been bought by Strex Corp., but for a different reason- a spokesperson named Erika, who was wearing a uniform with the Strex Corp Logo said,  
"We don't wanna control you or anything, we just want you to say we legally exist as what we are- angels. Yes, we're angels, and yes, that is now a legal statement."  
The angel then disappeared, leaving only the faint scent if red in it's wake.  
Also, the subway has finally re- opened! The city council said unanimously today that Night Vale citizens could now use this more energy, cost, and environment saving form of transportation to get around in your daily lives.  
In other news, listeners, there is a man in my studio. He claims his name is Gilbert, and he bears a remarkable resemblance to the man I saw in the portfolio. I had inter Maureen check, and he is not a apparition, as can sometimes be seen near skeletons. I don't know why he's here, or what he wants, but he seems to be doing the tasks an intern normally would.  
He doesn't seem to be hurting anyone,so I'm just going to let him keep working - intern Maureen needs help, what with trying to pass classes and all... Ah, look, he's refilled my coffee. Thank you, Gilbert! (Sips)  
And now to traffic:  
A thousand cars clog our city streets. No one's eyes will meet, as they all drive, wondering why they are driving, where they are going, why are they even here. No ones seems to know. No one can ever know, even as we think that we have found the meaning for everything. We did not. We cannot.  
The roads look clear today, aside from a minor accident on Southeast Boulevard. If you need to go that way, I suggest an alternate route.  
Oh! Look! Carlos just texted me. Let's see what he says... Well then... Listeners, it appears that Carlos is close to finding a path between the desert world that he has been residing in for quite a while now and Night Vale. He hopes that he will find it within the next month. When he does, I will be taking some time off to see him... (Dreamily) I'd like that.. To feel his hand, strong, wrapped in mine... To see his smile- his perfect smile ..... To run my hand through his perfect, perfect hair... To see his bronze chest, glistening -- (Loud banging) Uhh, I'm sorry listeners, I got a little off track there. That noise was intern Maureen banging on the wall of my booth, reminding me that there are more crucial things for you to hear- for example, a word from our sponsors!  
Today's show is sponsored by the number 18. It gives a shout out to Brandy Stephens, who is turning 18 today. Welcome to adulthood, Brandy!  
The number 18 has been around for thousands of years, helping us to mark amounts that in the end will matter to no one but is important to us in the moment for some inexplicable reason. 18 thanks us for years of continual support,and wishes to have many more! 18 Is also giving away a special prize: 18 newly deceased hummingbirds! Count to 18 within the next minute to order.  
Listeners, you know how I was telling you earlier about intern Gilbert? Well, he's.... Changing. Not in a deeply menacing way, it's just his form is now black, swirling, and liquid- like, as if he were made of oil... Probably better to move on to another topic…  
And now to economic news: a girl sits in her room, the sunlight fluttering through a Victorian window, catching dust motes spiraling in the air. The girl is crying, and she appears to be starving, even though her house looks quite luxurious. She can hear her parents yelling at each other in the next room. She bawls harder, but does not make a sound. There is no one to hear her. She wants no one to hear. She plays with a doll- a doll with an easily broken porcelain face. She drops the doll and it shatters. She can no longer hold in her tears.  
Ummmm........ Uh, listeners, you know how I told you that intern Gilbert had formed into a seemingly liquid like, oil like being? Well, he is no longer humanoid. He is now a large, dark mass, still with that oily resemblance, and he is... Listeners, he is taking intern Maureen!! I- I must help her! I, umm, hope to be back soon, but for now I leave you to the weather - Gilbert!! GILBERT!! PUT HER DOWN!! PUT HER - (Cue weather.)  
Well, listeners, that was.... Strange. Intern Gilbert- or rather, the entity that was mimicking him, as the skeleton is still here in a box on the floor- stole intern Maureen, and carried her out, intern Maureen screaming, and intern Gilbert screeching "YOU SHALL BE MY BRIDE!! YOU SHALL BE MY BRIDE!!!" in an ancient language that I could somehow understand. He also left a note with the words "One month." in the same language. I'm not sure if that means he'll be back in one month, or he'll bring Maureen back in one month... I'm going to assume that latter... I'm hoping for the latter…  
And it appears that all over Night Vale similar things have been happening to what happened in the studio- except with different missing persons and different people taken. Apparently, they left Night Vale, marching down our highway, which, for some reason, no one was driving on, with a large banner in the front reading, in that same unknowable but known language, "Parade of the Forgotten." In my opinion, listeners, the people taken, the people found, they cannot ever be forgotten unless we let them be. By never forgetting them, they will live on. They cannot truly die.  
The last drops of sunset are moving out, the pinks and oranges of dusk making a way for the purples of twilight. Stay tuned for the sound of voices, trapped and scared, lonely and fearful, and as always, goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight.


End file.
